


Birds

by AsphorFell



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Anthology, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Interconnected oneshots, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:23:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsphorFell/pseuds/AsphorFell
Summary: A series of interconnected one-shots, centering around Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive and their relationship with their darling.





	1. Chapter 1

_“No drinking tonight darling. It wouldn’t do to say anything too…brazen, tonight, would it?”_

It’d been so long since you were allowed out of the manor, the idea of flouting the rules that you’d been given was too much for you. So you smiled and allowed yourself to be petted and cooed over.

Your dress was in grey silk so fine it seemed to shine in the light, and you still delighted in the swishing sound it made when you moved, whether it was to walk, or to dance with your…cousin’s husband.

“It’s a rare treat to have the Lady Phantomhive attend!” One of the women gushed to Rachel as she sat down, smiling. She was so beautiful she nearly glowed, and the golden of her hair was matched by the sun itself.

“How could I refuse?” She demurred, fanning herself, “I always look forward to your parties Lady Anneslay.” She cast a warm smile to you as well, “and you were kind enough to invite my dear cousin, it would be rude to miss such hospitality.” Lady Anneslay tittered, her cheeks high with color beneath her make-up.

“I’d heard that lately you and Lord Phantomhive were only attending parties that extended invitations to your cousin- naturally I took the hint!”

Clever bitch.

“Yes, people are finally catching on that my cousin is part of an invitation to the family. Isn’t that right, darling?” She beamed up at you proudly, and the sense of déjà vu was overwhelming.

You’d made her acquaintance at a party like this, and she’d been so kind, so indulgent.

“It’s been a lovely evening, Lady Anneslay, but I do think we should be returning home soon.” Rachel admitted in the next lull in the conversation, signaling the women to begin protesting.

Of course she wanted to go home- your first time out in ages and she wanted to cut it short. It wouldn’t do to give you ideas, or the opportunity to leave.

You really wanted a drink.

“Pardon me,” a musical voice broke your thoughts.

A young man perhaps a year older than you and certainly in flashier dress, was smiling at you. Remembering your manners you bowed and managed a smile.

“Good evening, sir,” you greeted.

“If you’ll pardon my say so, I couldn’t resist asking a woman so lovely as yourself for a dance.” He held out a gloved hand, and nervously you glanced at Rachel.

Rachel smiled, inclined her head. “Go on, darling, we’ll leave once you’ve had your dance with the Viscount.”

“Aleistor, if you please, My Lady,” you introduced yourself and he led you out onto the dance floor.

It was still crowded, but you didn’t mind. You loved to dance, to feel the music. Aleistor was a lovely dancer, and you felt safer with him than with Vincent. Rachel was fine, but you couldn’t very well dance with a woman like you could a man.

“So, you are cousins with the Lady Phantomhive?” Aleistor asked conversationally.

You resisted the urge to clench your teeth.

“Yes, distantly. She and Lord Phantomhive opened their home to me, during a rather difficult time.” You explained, leaving out the detail and ghosting over the truth and lie.

“How generous! The Phantomhives are truly splendid people! And to introduce you to society!” His hand on your waist was warm as you glided across the floor. 

“Yes, very generous ideed.”

And they were generous.

With Rachel and Vincent you’d never known such wealth. They took for granted all that they had, or at least thought nothing of their clothes and horses and art… and they offered all of it to you, without hesitation.

“I consider myself very lucky to know you indeed. You remind me of a Lark, you know; so still and careful, but your voice is so melodic-”

“Cousin.” A voice silenced Aleistor’s words, and you froze.

Vincent approached with a careful smile, but his eyes…

You stepped away from Aleistor and folded your hands.

“Rachel is ready to leave.” He directed at you, but raised a hand to stop you when you began to excuse yourself. “She said you’d made the acquaintance of the Viscount.”

“Yes, Aleistor,” and you cursed yourself, “just offered to dance with me before I had to leave.”

“So I see.” He tutted and linked his arm with yours. “The Viscount collects birds, did you know?” Aleistor froze.

“No, Vincent, I didn’t.”

“Yes. He likes to cage them. Though he should be careful.” It was impossible to miss the edge in his tone, “especially when that bird belongs elsewhere.”

He led you away smoothly, and you didn’t fight it.

* * *

In the carriage, Rachel unpinned your hair and threaded her fingers through it slowly and smoothly, one lock at a time.

“You’ve no idea what that man would have done to you if he’d gotten you alone, pet.” Vincent tutted, patting your knee. You stared out the window, feeling cold inside.

“How horrid, I had no idea.” You wanted to take Rachel’s hand and tell her it wasn’t her fault.

“You couldn’t have, darling. But I suppose it was too close.” Your heart clenched.

“Yes, I think perhaps society is a little too dangerous for you, pet.” Rachel agreed, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You weren’t even surprised when you started to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

_I._

_You meet Lady Phantomhive at a party._

_She’s beautiful, elegant, and so at ease with the crowd of people that flock around her, you can’t help but stare as you and your partner dance past._

_She smiles at you, and later she approaches to introduce herself._

_“Call me Rachel,” she urges, clasping your hand with a smile, “it wouldn’t do to call a friend by their title.  
_

_Your mother is thrilled._

_“She might have a relation you can marry- the Dalles’ aren’t as well off as the Phantomhive’s, of course, but it’s still a step up!” She grins and you feel nauseous as you stare down at your lap, “well done, my darling.”  
_

_An invitation to tea arrives within three days, for you, and your mother delightfully plans your outfit and sends you off into the mouth of the beast._

* * *

One thing that always blows you away upon reflection is the knowledge that, above all, the Phantomhive house is a happy one.

You never would have believed it.

Having grown up in a house fraught with tension and stress, you’d imagined that it would be the same here. Frosty dinners and competition with neighbors and peers, the scent of unfamiliar perfume and hushed words behind closed doors, and above all, you, left alone and scrabbling for better.

But better is relative.

Before, because that is how you think of things now-Before the Phantomhives and After, better was social status, money, a good marriage, good friends.

After…after is kindness, and a family that wants you for you.

Remarkably, the Phantomhives fit both categories.

You know what they say about you.

About Rachel’s cousin.

You’re not, but they needed a reason for propriety’s sake to allow you to move in.

* * *

_ii._

_Your family isn’t like the Phantomhive’s, or the Dalle’s. _

_You have no title, and your money is nothing to sneeze at, but it’s ‘new’. There’s no blue blood in your line, and that galls your parents. _

_(You have hazy memories of a small, shabby apartment, and makeshift toys, and a dirty city, but you remember being happy, a distant feeling now)_

_They dress you up and tot you about, trying to net a man with a title or a fortune or both, because enough is never enough._

_You’ve always been running and rushing- from lesson to party, to event to person._

_Rachel is a breath of fresh air._

_You sit with her in the garden and hang off her every word and eat delightful little sandwiches and treats. Her sons, twins, play together and with the large black dog, and it isn’t long before you love them as much as you do their mother._

_She’s such a good friend, she brings you to parties as her guest while her husband is away on business. You find yourself gravitating to the twins instead of your usual wild compatriots, and you feel content._

_Happiness isn’t a distant memory anymore, not with her._

_Rachel gently guides your tastes and gives you advice- she doesn’t need to follow fashion, not like you, but she gets you into the higher end boutiques and salons, not just the ones your mother favors, the ones that prey on the desperate, the hungry, these have real taste._

_She refines your palate, teaches you._

_You consider her a sister._

* * *

You still love the twins more than anything.

They’re precious and innocent, and you dote on them.

It’s probably not good for them, but you can’t help it, not when they love you as unconditionally as their parents, but certainly with better intentions.

* * *

_iii._

_You meet Vincent by accident._

_He arrives home to surprise his family and you’re there, keeping them company._

_Rachel and the boys are delighted at the sight of him and the presents he’s returned with, but you feel awkward as they embrace and kiss and greet one another._

_Then he smiles at you- it’s smaller than Rachel’s, but the warmth in his eyes is the same._

_“Rachel’s told me all about you.” He admits, and presents his own gift for you.  
_

_Your know that your face is shamefully red, but you can’t help it._

_“I wanted to thank you,” he hoists Ciel, giggling, onto his hip, “for keeping my family company.”  
_

_“Thank you,” you finally manage, and unwrap the gift. It’s a shawl, from Paris. It’s too much, to personal, but they all look so pleased at how happy it’s made you, you can’t protest._

* * *

For propriety’s sake, you have your own room.

It’s beautiful, filled with books and soft fabrics and cushions. Anything that you could want.

But you don’t sleep there.

You spend your nights between Vincent and Rachel, whether it’s in the throes of passion or just…sleeping.

* * *

_iv._

_The first night they coax you into bed, you’re drunk._

_More often than not, you’re spending your days at the Phantomhive estate. Your parents love that you’re rubbing elbows with their kind of people. _

_It’s raining that night, and they put the twins to bed and you drink._

_The wine is sweet and you love it._

_You feel fuzzy and happy, and you laugh with them._

_Before long, Rachel’s kisses are as sweet as the wine, and Vincent’s are as heady._

_They pull you apart and explore your body and you cry out for them and they claim you. _

_The next morning your mother arrives to retrieve you and sees some of the marks._

_There’s a confrontation and she drags you from the estate._

* * *

You still wonder what your mother was thinking when she tried to go toe to toe with the Phantomhives.

Then your father tried to demand reimbursement for your stolen virtue.

* * *

_v._

_Less than a fortnight later, your parents are dead._

_A mugging, on some side alley that you know they’d never go down- foolish your parents were, yes, but never fools._

_Rachel and Vincent stay with you to watch the coffins lower into the ground._

_Your head is spinning._

_You parents are dead, your father’s business is slipping through your fingers as attorneys pour through his finances and find nothing substantial. It was all smoke in the wind, a front._

_No wonder they were so desperate._

_You’ve got nothing now._

_“Poor dear,” Rachel comforts, taking your hand. “You must come with us.”  
_

_“I couldn’t impose,” you apologize. You can’t go with them, you can’t fall apart._

_“It’s not imposing.” Vincent promises. “You’re a friend, we want to help you.”  
_

_“Let us take care of you.” Rachel begs.  
_

_“The twins miss you.”   
_

_You go with them._


End file.
